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Page 34
The craft swayed slightly but she did not move. Then a new cry of
warning broke upon our ears. Turning, I saw a dozen black pirates
dashing toward us from the melee. We had been discovered. With
shrieks of rage the demons sprang for us. With frenzied insistence
I continued to press the little button which should have sent us
racing out into space, but still the vessel refused to budge. Then
it came to me--the reason that she would not rise.
We had stumbled upon a two-man flier. Its ray tanks were charged
only with sufficient repulsive energy to lift two ordinary men.
The Thark's great weight was anchoring us to our doom.
The blacks were nearly upon us. There was not an instant to be
lost in hesitation or doubt.
I pressed the button far in and locked it. Then I set the lever
at high speed and as the blacks came yelling upon us I slipped from
the craft's deck and with drawn long-sword met the attack.
At the same moment a girl's shriek rang out behind me and an instant
later, as the blacks fell upon me. I heard far above my head, and
faintly, in Thuvia's voice: "My Prince, O my Prince; I would rather
remain and die with--" But the rest was lost in the noise of my
assailants.
I knew though that my ruse had worked and that temporarily at
least Thuvia and Tars Tarkas were safe, and the means of escape
was theirs.
For a moment it seemed that I could not withstand the weight of
numbers that confronted me, but again, as on so many other occasions
when I had been called upon to face fearful odds upon this planet
of warriors and fierce beasts, I found that my earthly strength
so far transcended that of my opponents that the odds were not so
greatly against me as they appeared.
My seething blade wove a net of death about me. For an instant
the blacks pressed close to reach me with their shorter swords,
but presently they gave back, and the esteem in which they suddenly
had learned to hold my sword arm was writ large upon each countenance.
I knew though that it was but a question of minutes before their
greater numbers would wear me down, or get around my guard. I must
go down eventually to certain death before them. I shuddered at
the thought of it, dying thus in this terrible place where no word
of my end ever could reach my Dejah Thoris. Dying at the hands of
nameless black men in the gardens of the cruel therns.
Then my old-time spirit reasserted itself. The fighting blood of
my Virginian sires coursed hot through my veins. The fierce blood
lust and the joy of battle surged over me. The fighting smile that
has brought consternation to a thousand foemen touched my lips. I
put the thought of death out of my mind, and fell upon my antagonists
with fury that those who escaped will remember to their dying day.
That others would press to the support of those who faced me I
knew, so even as I fought I kept my wits at work, searching for an
avenue of escape.
It came from an unexpected quarter out of the black night behind
me. I had just disarmed a huge fellow who had given me a desperate
struggle, and for a moment the blacks stood back for a breathing
spell.
They eyed me with malignant fury, yet withal there was a touch of
respect in their demeanour.
"Thern," said one, "you fight like a Dator. But for your detestable
yellow hair and your white skin you would be an honour to the First
Born of Barsoom."
"I am no thern," I said, and was about to explain that I was from
another world, thinking that by patching a truce with these fellows
and fighting with them against the therns I might enlist their aid
in regaining my liberty. But just at that moment a heavy object
smote me a resounding whack between my shoulders that nearly felled
me to the ground.
As I turned to meet this new enemy an object passed over my shoulder,
striking one of my assailants squarely in the face and knocking him
senseless to the sward. At the same instant I saw that the thing
that had struck us was the trailing anchor of a rather fair-sized
air vessel; possibly a ten man cruiser.
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